Two Lives and a Mirror_Once We Were Happy_Solitary Snowstorm_Voices Of The Depth
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Two Lives and a Mirror
Empty rum bottles littered the sticky floor beside my feet. It was day sixteen of misery. Who knew how long before I’d call it quits? I hated drinking impulsively. I prized my sobriety after being neglected by a drunkard father but I wanted to figure what drives a person to do something they detested. My wife had loved life. Or at least, I figured so. Now, she left me utterly broken. I had no more tears. My fists were grotesquely bruised from violent outbursts. There was nothing left to live for. Her face was everywhere. Her radiant smile. Her contagious laughter. Those keen grey eyes. My hear...
Once We Were Happy
Chili mac covered with oozing cheese for her baby girl, still chunky at age 3 with a round moonpie face and legs that started off as thick sturdy tree trunks before tapering off into sapling branches and flat feet with long floor tapping toes. Vegetable soup for her little boy, tall and painfully thin, owing more so to the racehorse metabolism he’d inherited from his father than the food allergies she had to carefully screen everything he consumed for. There was not a drop of butter on the rice the two children would share and although her daughter loved the stuff, Mama would be bringing grape...
Solitary Snowstorm
The squall of snow never slowed, the plip-plip pattern hitting the windows adding a dreamy rhythm to the bookstore within. Shelves upon shelves of used books which smelt of broken hearts and mild dust lined the walls. The fluorescent lights flickered every minute or three to remind those within of the brewing blizzard. A young woman sat at the only cashier’s desk. Her brown hair fell in curtains around her oval face, and her brows scrunched in study as she read the book balanced on her lap. “Who are you?” She looked up to meet the gaze of a short man, roughly in his thirties, with a splotchy ...
Voices Of The Depth
That sunrise was dark. It was cold, the sky wasn’t blue, the birds didn’t sing, behind the mountains, the sun rays were fading and mixing with the huge grey clouds. As I watched the clouds moving with the wind, I said to Helen “something’s coming today”. She just looked at me and smiled.We entered her house, it was warm inside. We both sat on the big couch, and she turned on the TV. The news are the same from two weeks; missing people. Helen started, “a new person will be missing today”. I didn’t understand, I asked why, she answered “a person is lost every three days, and from three days exac...